


Such A Sweet Dream Is An Omen Of Love

by Lady_Baelish



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Awesome Irene Adler, Awesome Molly Hooper, BAMF John, BAMF Molly Hooper, Cute Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/M, Greg is Sweet, Homophobic Language, Irene Adler Ships Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Jealous Sherlock, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Lesbian Irene Adler, M/M, Modern Royalty, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, Mycroft To The Rescue, Mycroft Worries, Poor Molly, Possessive Sherlock, Prince Mycroft Holmes, Prince Sherlock Holmes, Protective Greg, Protective Mycroft, Protective Sherlock Holmes, Royalty, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Teen Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Baelish/pseuds/Lady_Baelish
Summary: Two lonely souls connected by fateOrRosamund Elizabeth Watson "Lilibet" ships a little bit too much her father and the prince
Relationships: Greg Lestrade/Greg Lestrade's Wife, Irene Adler & Sherlock Holmes, Molly Hooper & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes & Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft Holmes & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Original Character, Sherlock Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes & Mrs. Hudson & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Such A Sweet Dream Is An Omen Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo  
> How are you?? 
> 
> JUST A LITTLE BRIEFING BEFORE WE START : This is a Johnlock fanfiction and a Royalty AU, Sherlock is a prince and John a former general covered of glory after a brilliant career in the royal army.  
> They are around 35 years old.  
> John had a daughter: Rosamund Elizabeth Watson best known as "Lilibet"; with Mary but they are no longer together and there is no chance to her to appear in the story.   
> Rosamund is around 17 years old and will be an important character in the story.  
> Obviously Rosie is completely OC.  
> Sherlock have never been married because he chased away all of her suitors. (+ John is his soulmate)  
> Mycroft is married and a father (heir prince obligates) but honestly I have no idea how to make his wife (give me ideas;)).
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: Sherlock, John and all the other characters do not belong to me.  
> Many characters who have existed will appear in this fanfiction, of course you can find them on the internet because I have not changed their names, obviously they are not the most famous one but they were important during their time.  
> Sometimes you could see appear some small references, it's up to you to find them;)  
> I don't get any money by doing this job.  
> ENGLISH IS NOT MY MOTHER TONGUE SO PLEASE BE KIND AND RESPECTFUL.   
> DO NOT HESITATE TO CORRECT ME.
> 
> Some informations before we start:
> 
> 1) The wealthy people move in carriages, poorest people must be content with their legs.  
> Cars doesn't exist.
> 
> 2) Internet, television .. All of that does not exist.  
> It is not a modern world.
> 
> 3) The main occupations of wealthy women are reading, sewing, painting, gardening, dancing, singing and music.
> 
> 4) The main occupations of wealthy men are hunting, politics and business.
> 
> 5) It is a very Old World regime (Ancien Régime)   
> \- architectural style  
> \- the way of seeing the world and life  
> \- the way of thinking
> 
> but more advanced:  
> \- the clothes are very modern (men in suits and ties and women in beautiful dresses, for the wealthiest of them of course)  
> \- the ideas of the, rare, intellectuals come closer to the thoughts of our current actual way to think.   
> For them, there is no shame in being who we are.
> 
> 6) Technology has not evolved because of the ubiquitous place of religion which considers that this is not in correlation with religious thought.  
> Science is seen in a poor way because it discredits religion.
> 
> 7) This religion is not real, it is fabricated and cannot be compared to those actual in our world. 
> 
> 8) Anything who's different is frowned upon.
> 
> 9) Homosexuality is a sin in the same vein as adultery, theft, murder, abortion and suicide.
> 
> 10) War is always fought with swords and on horseback, for the richest, or without for the poorest (you pay for your military equipment)
> 
> 11) Wealthy men can pay the poorest to go to war for them.
> 
> The first chapter should be coming in a few day.   
> See you soon..
> 
> Margaery.

In his dreams he always saw the same details:  
the golden ground strewn with corpses and coagulated blood spilling to the feet of the survivors who could not bear the empty gaze of those who perished for a cause which did not concern them at all.  
Some had their faces turned towards the sky hoping, without doubt, to see the gods appear who would guide them towards eternal existence.  
On the other hand, faces down on earth imploring humus to save them from the unbearable pain that was the awareness that death awaited them at the turn.  
For the unlucky ones, their heads were never ever found, undoubtedly carried away by the enemy as a trophy on an act of their incommensurable superiority.  
They have covered themselves with immeasurable glory and the names of many of them will be written in gold letters in the history of the most sacred of wars.

Sometimes his dreams brought him indoors, in endless underground galleries to flush out belligerents in complete rest.  
These were so cramped.  
But it was necessary to advance in these caliginous corridors in spite of the fear which tormented his entrails that an enemy would take him from behind and take from him, in a few seconds, his entire existence.

But this time there was none of it.  
Around him he could only see a field of Sylleblossom stretching as far as his eyes could see.  
The sky had never been as blue as in this dream, not a cloud on the horizon, but especially no one in sight.  
He saw what he firstly took for a tree and challenged himself to reach it as quickly as possible, while feeling the rubbing of the Sylleblossom stalks on his ankles and the soft and cool breeze caressing his face.  
When he reached the tree he felt like he had run an impressive distance but could not assess it having no point of reference of where he was when he started to run.  
He quickly understood why he was out of breath: indeed the tree was on a hill overlooking the Sylleblossom field.  
Exhausted, he curled up and dropped down the hill until he landed below surrounded by Sylleblossom.

As he was about to get up he thought he saw a shadow but it was impossible: he was alone when he had hurtled down the hill and there was still no sign of a cloud in the sky.  
With a sudden movement from an old army reflex, he fell to the ground while remaining in a position ready to pounce on anyone who could came near.  
But very quickly all this seemed grotesque, it wasn't his kind to be afraid of a non-existent shadow, he was not a coward.  
So he pushed this feeling very far away into the back of his mind and set out to continue walking until he reached the end of the field and discovered how far he could go.

But when, once and for all, he got up nothing could prepare him for what he was going to see:

There was a man.

In the field.

With him.

How long had he been there?  
Was he spying on him?

He lingered on the physique of this man.  
He was rather tall, well, really much taller than him.  
His hair was blacker than the wings of a crow and his skin whiter than snow in the middle of December.  
But the most beautiful thing about him was his eyes: no gemstones seemed to match them, it was a soft mixture of the color of a lagoon mixed with an ingot of gold, and yet he had never seen a gold bar with his own eyes.  
This man seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  
Where had he seen it before?

The man seemed relaxed, no facial expression was particularly present on his face.  
He almost found himself smiling at that face, strangely he couldn't hold it back.  
Even more surprising, he felt his legs begin to walk towards the stranger.  
He wanted to hold back, tell his legs to stop, but the attraction that this man seemed to have on him was stronger than his own willingness.

As he was lost in his thought, he didn't even notice that the ground seemed to have shirked under his feet.  
The Sylleblossom field had disappeared, and the fusion of the sky and the Sylleblossom gave birth to a body of water in which he felt himself drowning.  
The man was falling with him but did not seem panicked or particularly surprised, it even seemed that he smiled.  
What kind of idiot smiled when drowning?

He tried to swim towards him as fast as he could, but the man plunged tirelessly into the abyss and, very soon, risked drowning.

It seemed like sucking in long stalks of Sylleblossom that wrapped around his arms and waist and pushed him to the bottom.  
He couldn't reach it, it was as if an invisible force was pushing him upwards.  
He was coming to the surface!  
But the stranger seemed to sink.  
He struggled like crazy to counter this force and continued to advance abroad in abrupt and unelegant gestures.  
He screamed with all his might before realizing that his breath was blocked in his throat.  
He couldn't breathe.  
His eyes started to close, his movements became softer until his body stopped struggling.  
Before dying he looked a last time towards the bottom but he saw nothing there, the mysterious stranger had disappeared, only a Sylleblossom replaced the memory of his body.  
In an ultimate act he caught it, curled up on himself, the flower near his chest protected by his body.  
And so everything turned black.

******************

When he woke up, in panic, he saw Molly, one of his daughter's maids, above him.  
It was really his chance, he must have made monstrous noises to wake her up like that.  
As he got up to place his back parallel to the wall Molly did not have the presence of mind to move his head and they violently bump into each other.

In a sudden movement Molly moved away from the bed and placed her two hands on her forehead.  
John panicked, had he hurt him? What if she was bleeding? Oh his dear little Lilibet was going to kill him.  
He jumped out of bed, rushing to the young servant.

"I ... I'm really sorry Molly ... Are you okay? Let me see! Is it bleeding?"

Molly replied with a lot of agitation while forgetting that it was the middle of the night "All ... Everything is good sir ... Don't..Do not worry ... It's my fault .. I have no savvy .. I'm really lousy .. Miss will blame me."

"She might blame you if you keep screaming in the middle of the night, you know she doesn't like being disturbed in her sleep" replied John clearly amused by the situation. 

Molly seemed to relax since she even smiled a little, John noticed that her eyes were not looking in any particular direction and that she seemed to be eagerly scrutinizing the part of the wall while refraining from looking elsewhere.

John quickly understood why.  
He was naked.  
He had completely forgotten that he used to sleep undressed.  
Molly did not seem to be shocked, on the contrary, she was surely refrained herself more from looking and laughing loudly than fleeing the room out by prudishness. 

John, a little ashamed, quickly grabbed the cover of the bed to protect his remains of dignity and tried, clumsily, to change the subject.

"Molly, what time is it?" 

She moved quietly towards the window and gently pulled one of the curtains.

"On the face of it I would say it must be around five o'clock sir."

"Very well, thank you Molly .. Hmm .."

The young woman did not seem to understand that she embarrassed John, she seemed lost in thought and continued to look out the window observing, no doubt, the sunrise which was reflected on the windows of the greenhouse that Lilibet had built. It was the perfect place to have a cup of tea in the spring or just go for a walk, breathing in the exquisite scent of flowers.  
Molly seemed, like everyone, to like this place but it was normal, Lilibet had built it so that it was absolutely perfect.  
The number of people in the capital who would kill to have the same rose garden as his daughter always made John mind-blowing.

Besides, he tried once again to get Molly to leave.  
"Shouldn't you go check on Rosie's slumber ? Maybe she needs you?"

Molly finally deigned to turn to John, panicked, as if she had suddenly realized that she had been looking out the window for a good five minutes.

"I thought she didn't like being disturbed in her sleep?"

Oh obviously it was inconsistent.  
John quickly searched in his mind for a new excuse to make her leave, but without appearing rude, he didn't want her to think he didn't like her, it was quite the opposite: she was the one of the only maidservants in the household who were sparsely delightful and she was the only one who did not treat him as an invalid.

"Maybe you could go help the kitchen for Rosie's breakfast? Or perk up the table? That would probably make her happy. And don't forget to put some flowers on it, you know how much she loves them."

At that she placed her forefinger on her chin and seemed to plunge into intense reflection.

"I could go and pick her flowers in the greenhouse, I know she likes rose flavoured tea! And I could put some hyacinths on the breakfast table!"

"Great idea, so do it!"

"Thanks for the help sir."

As she was about to leave once and for all she turned around and asked:

"Do you want me to send someone to help you?" implied to dress you.

John shook his head "No no no I'm perfectly fine, I don't need help."

Molly closed the door and left John alone with his thoughts.  
The discussion with the young servant had completely made him forget his dream but now it came back to him clearly.  
Who was this man he had seen in the middle of a dream?  
What did this dream mean?  
Was it premonitory?

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my mother tongue. SOOOO if a made some mistakes please let me know and I will try to correct it
> 
> This fanfiction would be kind because we all want some good Johnlock stuffs
> 
> See you soon (maybe... I hope soo)
> 
> MARGAERY


End file.
